Loving Natara Williams
by But I Have Promises To Keep
Summary: I used to be someone, someone named Natara Williams. And then…I wasn't.
1. Chapter 1

**So I know I said I was going to do _Masquerade_ or _Haunted _next, but I had this random idea: What if Natara had shot herself, but survived? It's unlikely, since it all depends on the bullet entrance angle, gun type ect., but it's possible. People have survived being shot in the head, even at close range. So, this is placed at the time of just after the current now airing episode. Please review and tell me what you think so far?**

* * *

The first thing I realized as I woke up was a throbbing pain in the right side of my head. The next thing was the stale taste of sleep, and someone moving near me. After a moment of wishing I could drop off into the darkness once more, I gave up and opened my eyes. The world was hazy, objects mixing into each other. But even through that I could still tell someone was across the room. Someone with short dark hair was moving something on the other side of the room, and after a moment bright sunlight flooded the room. I snapped my eyes shut, and slowly eased them open as they adjusted to the light.

"Natara?".

Something about that name was familiar, and I know it's my own. I turned my head slightly and see the short haired woman beside me. She was smiling slightly, peering down at me as if seeing me for the first time. I opened my mouth to ask who she is, and where I am, but my words were caught in my throat as if I had forgotten how to speak. I struggled to find words, but after a moment she shushed me.

"Just get some rest, okay? I'll explain everything again later".

_Again?_ With that I knew she had explained everything to me before, and I should remember it. Remember her. But I didn't, and all I could wonder was what was wrong with me. I knew this woman should be familiar…but she wasn't. Her name…everything about her that I know was somewhere in me. Somewhere where it was just out of my reach. As she left I wanted to get up and go after her, chase her down and get answers, but when I tried to get up it was like every part of me weighed too much. I tried to roll myself over, but it was like my arms were not my own. My head throbbed, bringing waves of darkness into my vision. I reached up to my head and and was shocked to feel not my hair, but thick bandages. I franticly felt the side of my head, somehow startled by this. How did this get here? What happened to me? The woman returned again, looking down at me. She stared for a moment, and I couldn't imagine how pathetic I must have looked. My eyes wide with fear and confusion, only now realizing what clearly is an injury. She sat down in a chair next to me and sighed, not even bothering to hide the pity in her gaze.

"Do you know who you are?".

It took me a moment to answer, as if my name was on the tip of my tongue. But I could remember introducing myself countless times, and it was a complete guess when I said "Natara Williams" in a small voice. I was surprised at my sudden ability at speech, at how easily the words came out of my mouth.

She smiled slightly "Good, than this makes things much easier. Do you know why you are here?".

"No" I said quietly. There was a faint flicker of something in her face, but I wasn't sure what it was because it was gone in an instant.

"Do you know who I am?".

I didn't want to tell her no, since her face was slightly hopeful when she asked. After a moment that stretched on forever, I said in an even quieter voice. "No". There was another flicker of emotion on her face, and this time I could see what it was. Hurt, disappointment maybe, but it was gone before I could tell which. "I'm sorry" I said in a whisper.

"It's okay" she said, but I knew that it wasn't okay at all. "It's not your fault".

I wanted to ask her who's fault it was. Why I couldn't remember things I should, or what made me this way. But I didn't. If she wanted to, she would elaborate. I feared asking her to explain, because something about the way she spoke about this told me it was a sensitive subject. I kept my gaze on her, willing her to tell me what brought me here. Eventually she sighed, crossing her legs and sitting back as if expecting this is going to take a long time.

"You were shot" she said calmly. For some reason I didn't see this as an odd statement. As if the idea of a gun isn't frightening, but more so framiliar. "I'm not going to go into details again, but—".

"Again?".

She looked slightly annoyed, but said "I've explained this to you on a few occasions, but you were still recovering in the hospital during all of them and were probably to medicated to remember. Anyways, you were shot in the head, or more accurately, you shot yourself. But you were forced to, you didn't actually want to kill yourself". I stared at her intently as she talked. Every word she said, every gesture she made, it was all careful and precise. Rehearsed even. As if she had done this so many times, it was boring. "I'm not going to get into why, it's far to complicated. But we were able to rescue you, and repair some of the damage to your brain. The problem is, the part contributing to memory was damaged. They said your long-term memories will probably come back, but your short term memories may take longer to come back. If they all even come back. Anyways, we've been forced to hide for the time being. The man who did this to you, he's still out there. We're afraid he might come after you in your weakened state, so I took you away so he can't find you. So technically, we're in hiding. They're looking for him, and Mal's going to come back when they catch him".

'_Mal_'. I can tell by just thinking that name that it would roll naturally off my tounge, as if I had spoken it a thousand times. But the face that matches it was lost, and I wasn't sure if I could ever find it again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed/Followed/favorited! Sorry there isn't a lot of Maltara in this chapter, but I already wrote the one I'm uploading tomorrow and that one has so much Maltara you could choke on it, so hopefully you'll like it :) please review?**

* * *

It was late in the night when I woke up again. The woman, who said her name was Amy, had given me some kind of medication made to prevent infection from my surgery. She said it would probably knock me out for the rest of the day, and she was right. When I woke I was covered in cold sweat, and a chill that had nothing to do with the temperature was running down my back. Surely the feeling came from the fact that I was having a bad dream, but about what I couldn't remember. I didn't move, but kept still and ridged as if my very life depended on it. I wanted to go back to sleep, wake up later and realize this was all a dream, but I ended up laying in suffocating darkness for what seemed like hours. Eventually I got up, surprised that I could do so, and stood for a moment. I wanted to leave, I felt trapped in this room, but feared leaving. This room was all I knew, and so far was the only thing I could be sure was real. After a few minutes of building up the nerve to leave, I crept into the hallway. It was pitch dark, but in the distance I could see something reflective from an unknown light source. A mirror. Careful to move my feet slowly so I didn't trip over some hidden object, I crept into the room and quickly found a light switch. I was in a small bathroom, and the mirror I had seen was just beside me. I could finally see the face that was my own, scared-looking and paler than I thought was normal, reflecting back at me. My head looked odd-shaped and small from the gauzy fabric that wrapped around my head, and my hair was entirely hidden. Curiosity taking over my better judgment, I pried the end of the bandage out of where it was tucked in and began to unravel it. It took a moment, the thin fabric seemingly going on forever. When the last strand fell to the bathroom floor, I looked up.

"Oh. My. God." I whispered.

I may not have remembered how I looked before, but I was certain I didn't look like this. My hair was extremely short and boyishly cut, shaved even. It was growing back in thin and wiry bristles. But that wasn't what shocked me. There was a long puckered scar extending from just above my forehead to behind my ear, obscured by large and ugly stitches. I felt the edge of it, sending a painful sting to the sensitive skin. It hurt, but I touched it again to be sure it was real.

"You saved a lot of people, you know".

I whipped around. Amy was standing behind me, her hair disheveled and her eyes still droopy from sleep. "You saved a lot of people" she repeated, as if she thought I didn't hear her the first time.

I looked back to the mirror, where I could now see her behind me. I should have seen her coming, but I didn't care. There was something else bugging me. Shouldn't I know I saved a lot of people? Shouldn't I have already known everything she told me? Natara Williams would have known, but I still struggled to believe I was her. Which part of your brain stores who you are? Where a 'soul' of some sort lives? Was that part beyond repair, or was Natara Williams still here?

"What if she's gone?" I said quietly, still tracing the stitches across my head. I kept my hand slightly away from it so it wasn't quite touching the puckered skin, but I could still feel the faint sting when my fingers accidentally hit skin.

"What if who's gone?".

"Natara" I said quietly "What if she's gone? What if she doesn't come back?".

"Don't be silly" Amy said "you're Natara, and you're right here. Now let's get those bandages back on, I don't want the stitches getting caught on anything". She helped me wrap the fabric back around my head, not nearly as neatly and skillfully laid as they were, but they stayed. I returned to my room, but I couldn't sleep. She would never understand. Never understand how empty I felt, as if Natara had gone and left behind the empty shell that was me. That I may get her memories back, but I don't know if I can ever be her. It scared me, that I might never be the person that this Amy person remembers, that I may never fill Natara's place.

* * *

I sat on the end of my bed until morning, until I could hear movement on the other side of my door. It took me a moment to follow the noise down the hall and into a small living room, where Amy was sitting with the news on. I glanced at the clock on the nearby wall and saw that it wasn't even five o'clock yet.

"You're up early" I said.

She jumped slightly, and I figured I startled her. "It's a bit of a drive to work now" she said "I have to keep going or it would look suspicious".

"I'm sorry" I said quickly, knowing I was the reason we were here if the first place. I could tell by just looking at the room that it's not where she had always lived, and that it's some sort of hotel, judging by the sparse and worn-looking furniture.

"It's not your fault" she said again "none of this is".

I was getting tired of this simple response. It didn't answer any of the questions I was to afraid to ask, and I was surprised at myself when I said "then who's fault is it?".

She sighed again, and I sat down on the couch next to her. After a moment she said "It's a long story".

"I've got time". My eyes traveled over to a laptop on a nearby table, and something in my mind clicked. The faint tapping noise of computer keys being hit, the harsh scent of screen cleaner and other things I couldn't quite place. "You like computers" I said, and as soon as I did I knew it was true. "That…that's your job".

She smiled as if I had presented her with a wonderful gift. "Yes, I work with computers".

There was a moments pause in which neither of us spoke, but there was something else I could remember. Something that was just out of my reach. "Was I a cop?" I asked. As soon as I said it I knew this wasn't right, that there was another word for what I was.

"No. You worked with the FBI, a special agent" she said "But you were helping us with an investigation, and you've been here in San Francisco for over a year now. Mal Fallon is your partner, and you two were very close. He's going to be here in a few days if he can, but he needs to be sure he's not being followed. If he catches the man who did this to you before then, it means you can come out of hiding".

For some reason this seemed wrong to me. Not anything Amy said, but rather something she didn't say.

"Don't I have any family that wants to see me?" I asked "Parents? Siblings?".

"You have both your parents and a sister, but they can't come right now".

"Can I call them?".

"No" Amy said quickly.

"Why not?" I asked angrilly.

"They think you're dead" she said quietly "The only people who know you're alive are me, Mal, and Captain Yeong, who's the San Francisco police department captain. And for right now, it's better that way.".

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**Oh, and just as another A.N. how they did everything (like faking Natara's death) will be explained in the next few chapters.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry, there isn't as much Maltara as I thought in this chapter. I didn't realize how long my chapter was until I uploaded…and I had to cut it in half. So about half of it will be in my next update, and half is in here. But the bright side is I'm ahead with my writing, and I like to update every day so I feel like I actually did something productive for the day.**

**Review Repiles:**

**Oryt: Thanks! I think I might see if I can find that book, I've never heard of it. And thanks, it took me a while to work out that dialogue so it didn't sound awkward, and I'm glad you like it :)**

**mozzi-girl: Thanks! That was actually one of my favorite parts to write.**

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**CauseOfDeathIsGreat: Thanks!**

**Jupal: thanks, that really means a lot! **

* * *

Shock. That's all I felt as those words came out of Amy's mouth, the first few being the only words I was able to process.

'_They think you're dead'._

They hit me hard, enough so that I didn't respond. Were they mourning me? What were they doing now? How did they explain my supposed death to them? How did they tell them they can't even have a funeral for me? Amy didn't speak for a moment, and seemed to know I was taking this information in. But part of it was me fitting another puzzle piece together, another piece of who I was.

_I was an FBI agent. I was a daughter. I was a sister._

I made a quick mental list of these things, so I had something to hold onto. A map if some kind, so maybe I could find myself again.

"I need to go" Amy said suddenly "if you're hungry you can get something from the kitchen, just don't leave this hotel room. Right now it's just to dangerous. If anyone comes to the door just pretend you're not here".

I didn't respond, but only sat and watched as she grabbed a coat and left. As soon as she left I went to the window, pulled back the curtain and watched until I saw her come outside, as if to confirm that there was a world outside this room. I watched as she ran through the heavy rain, and after she disappeared around the corner I put the curtain back in place, getting away from the window. I resumed my place on the couch, placing my face in my hands. I didn't know what to do, where to turn. I couldn't find something to do, because I didn't know what I liked to do anymore. That's when I heard my name. My head snapped up, and I stated at the TV, which Amy had forgotten to turn off. There was a pretty red-headed woman standing outside a semi-familiar building, and she was giving a rather fake-looking frown to the camera.

"—It's been several days since Special Agent Natara Williams had selflessly given her life to save several hundred people from a terrorist attack, and this act of self-sacrifice had taken hold of the hearts of the people of San Francisco. Of course this is the second of two people killed in the line of duty lately, the first being Detective Ken Greene of the San Francisco police department. After speaking with several officers, we have confirmed that they are doing everything in their power to prevent another fatality".

The camera flashed to a blonde woman, her face solemn, but set and determined all the same. I leaned in closer, taking in everything on the screen hungrily. This is what I was waiting for. A sign that someone named Natara Williams had once existed, and wasn't just something made up.

"It's unfortunate that I only knew both Ken and Natara for a short time, but I know they were both dedicated people. Natara was one of the bravest people I knew, and her bravery is what saved all those people. She will be missed".

The camera adjusted again, this time there was a man on it. I lost control of myself for a moment, and ended up on my knees with my face only a foot from the screen.

"I was fortunate enough to know Natara for over a year, and she was the best partner I ever had. What she did was nothing short of heroic, and it's honestly not fair that she's dead while the man who did this is still alive. Right now we are doing everything we can to bring this man to justice. For both the safety of the public, and to avenge both Detective Greene and Agent Williams. They will be deeply missed".

There was something in his face that was different from the woman's. Something that he was trying to hide. It was like he was trying to look sad, but the mask he formed was only semi-transparent. The fact that he knows something was shining through, and I had a feeling this is one of the few people who know about my continued existence. It was a convincing facade, and if I wasn't looking for it I don't think I would have caught it. But this wasn't what brought me to my knees, making me get closer to the TV with every word.

It was the mans eyes that had me mesmerized. The bright blue orbs that seem to pierce through me, even if they were only looking at me through a TV screen. I've seen those eyes before, and I could say with certainty that I've looked into those eyes on multiple occasions. The color, the shape, everything about them was framiliar.

After that there was nothing but a man rambling off about the weather, and I returned to my seat and put my face in my hands once again. That's when everything hit me, all the things I learned from the last few days crashing down.

It was gone. It was all gone. Everything I was, everything I worked hard to be, it was all gone. I was lost, and everything was taken from me because if just one person. And the thing was, I didn't know who that person was. Was it this man Amy spoke of, the one who tried to get me to take my own life and in turn immortalizing me? Or was it me? Was what happened my own fault? The only way I could answer this would be if I knew who I was. But I couldn't even take a guess at who I was, because I had heard so many different things. I trust what Amy said, but she didn't give me complete answers. I didn't know if I could believe what was on the screen, they all thought I was dead, and I didn't want to hear the euphemistic explanation of who I was. I wanted the truth. Even if I was a horrible person, I wanted to know I was a horrible person. I wanted to know anything, no matter how small, that was the truth. But there was something there, something on the screen that was framiliar. A name. I knew whoever this name belonged to was dead, but it was something.

* * *

It was a long wait until Amy came home again, but as soon as she walked in the door I completely forgot the hours of boredom.

"Who was Ken Greene?" I asked before she had even taken off her coat.

I had expected her to smile. I had expected her to give me an answer right away, and for this one name to make everything make sense again. But she didn't smile. If fact, a look of utter shock appeared on her face and she said rather shakily "How do you know that name?".

"It was on the news" I said, confused at her expression. "Did I know him?". She nodded slightly, but I could see her eyes were slightly glassy. I hesitated at my next question, unsure if I should even ask it. But how else could I find out who this Ken person was? "Did he have anything to do with…with what happened to me?".

"No!" she said suddenly. She seemed to realize she had spoken rather loud, and quieted her voice slightly as she added. "He had nothing to do with it".

It was the way she spoke of him that told me she was in love with him, and I knew he had died recently from the news. I had figured his death had something to do with what happened to me, that maybe he had been involved, but it was very clear that I was wrong. "You loved him" I said quietly. She nodded slightly. "It happened so recently, are you sure you're okay to still go to work?".

"I have to go" she said "It's the best way to exchange information between the people who know about you. We can't excahange anything about you or the case any other way. Phones and the Internet are too risky, and it's only for the best that I go".

"I'm sorry" I said, truly feeling bad. If I had just died when I shot myself, it would have been so much easier. I wouldn't be guessing who I was. Amy would be able to grieve properly. This Mal person, whoever he is, wouldn't have to worry about being followed. No one would have to lie. "I'm so sorry".

Amy took in a shaky breath and collected herself, and finally said. "It's not your fault. None of this is. I know you want answers, and you'll get them. Mal can explain everything better than I can, and he'll be here soon".

She took off her coat and hung it up. I watched as she went into the kitchen and could hear her doing something, but didn't follow her. I had a feeling she had gone in there to hide, to give herself a moment to take in the sudden mention of Ken's name. I couldn't pretend I didn't feel something as we spoke of him. I felt as if I had lost a friend from long ago, like I knew him in high school but hadn't known him that well. But I knew this wasn't true, I must have known him from work. But as badly as I wanted to feel something more for him, I couldn't pretend that I knew him. A minute later Amy returned, two cups in her hands. Her eyes looked slightly red, but I didn't say anything. She handed me a cup of what looked like coffee, and said "sorry it's decaf, I don't think it's safe for you to have caffeine yet".

I thanked her quietly and took it, but didn't drink it. Did I even like coffee? I think I did, or Amy wouldn't have given it to me. But what if I drank it and didn't like it, but the old Natara did? In the end I was so confused by this simple drink that I ended up setting it on the counter beside me, and Amy didn't say anything.

"Oh, I almost forgot" she said suddenly "Mal said they're making good progress on the case, and he should be able to visit tomorrow. I know he can't wait, the last time he saw you you were pretty knocked out".

I nearly sighed with relief. Finally, everything could start to make sense again. But for some reason, this Mal person wasn't who I wanted to see the most. I wanted to see this blue-eyed man that had mesmerized me this morning. Because for some reason, I felt like a part of myself lay within him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Just letting you know, I won't be able to reach any Internet for the next few days. So if I don't review or update and it seems like I've dropped off the face of the Internet, I'm not dead. Please review so I can see them when I return? Also, sorry I don't have review replies this time. Fan-fiction won't load my reviews for some reason. I read them before though, so thanks to anyone who reviewed!**

* * *

_"Mal…" I whispered softly through barely moving, slightly parted lips._

_"Miss, we need to go. We don't know how long we have you stable for. You've seen your parents and sister, we need to go…"._

_"No…"._

_I felt like the world was very far away, and I was only a viewer watching from above. I was told by a stranger I was saying my goodbyes before my surgery…just in case. But I didn't know who I was saying goodbye to. I didn't know the cluster if blurry faces that passed just before they started to wheel me away. In fact, I didn't even know who I was calling for. I didn't know who this 'Mal' was. But I kept saying it, as if whoever this man was he would appear. Faces mixed into each other, and my vision was fading into black. I wanted to look for the man I was calling for, but something was holding my head still and forcing me to look forward. Then I heard it. A call…far away, yet clear. Like a bird song. But I couldn't concentrate on what he was saying, my ears had filled with a high pitched ringing. My head hurt with a dull pain that felt more like pressure than anything else, as if someone was filling my skull with air. Red veins were creeping through the black in my vision, and all I could see was a man running towards me through what looked like a long tunnel. Through the small tunnel my vision had been reduced to, I could see the man come closer. He took my hand and appeared to be running alongside the gurney I was on as it was moving. I couldn't feel my hand in his, but I could see that he had it. He was shouting at the top of his lungs, but I couldn't hear what. All I could see was his mouth move as he shouted, but that didn't help me. The ringing in my ears reached such an intensity that I couldn't take it anymore, and the pain in my head spiked. I could see he was squeezing my hand, but I couldn't feel it. I wanted to squeeze back so badly, but I didn't know how. The tunnel that I had been watching through was closing, and the next thing I knew I couldn't see anything. The ringing had reached such a deafening pitch that I couldn't hear it anymore, but I couldn't hear anything else either. I was suddenly afraid that this man, Mal I think his name is, would leave me. I didn't know who he was, but he was all I had. I fought to see once more, so I knew he was still there, and I was able to get one last second-long glimpse of the world. The last thing I saw was a pair of eyes, and they were very close. They were a deep and bright blue, and as I felt myself fade away this was the color I became lost in._

* * *

I didn't know what woke me the next morning, but whatever it was it made me jump. I scanned the room as soon as I opened my eyes, but I couldn't see anything. It was still so early in the morning that the sun had yet to rise, and the only light was coming from the street lights outside shining through the curtains. That's when I heard it. Someone speaking, but it wasn't Amy. It was a man's voice, one that felt familiar but at the same time alien. I listened for a moment, fearing at first that someone had found us. But then I heard Amy's calm response a moment later, and I relaxed slightly. After a moment of debating my next move, I decided to get up and check it out. I crept down the hall, remembering how I did so the first night after waking up. It took me a moment to get all the was down to the living room like this, but I wasn't so sure I was quite ready to reveal myself yet. As I neared the living room, I could start to distinguish what the two voices were saying. It appeared Amy was explaining something to the man, and he was asking questions.

"—and she doesn't remember anything?".

"She barely knows who she is. She knows her own name, but that's about it". Amy paused for a moment. "She thinks she's someone else. She doesn't believe she's really Natara".

"Who else would she be?" the man asked.

"She said she doesn't know, and she's not like herself. I'm starting to think she's right. They said her memories should start to come back as soon as she wakes up, but so far the only thing she remembers is her name".

There was a long pause, and I peeked around the corner. Amy was sitting on the couch with her side to me, but I couldn't see the man. I presumed he was on the chair facing away from me, but I couldn't be sure.

"Just give her some time, I'm sure there's something that hasn't changed. I don't think anything could erase someone completely". He stopped for a moment. "How much does she know?".

"I didn't tell her much. I doubt she would believe it". She stopped for a moment, and I could hear her sigh. "I heard what Blaise said yesterday, how'd you handle that?".

"I told her she's crazy, and to stop worrying".

"What exactly happened? I only heard Kai's version, and you can guess how much I trust that".

"After the news crew left she said I didn't even look like I cared Natara was dead. I told her of course I was upset, but I missing her wouldn't catch Shawn. She accused me of knowing something she didn't, and later she said she thought I knew where Shawn was and was going after him alone. It wasn't that big of a deal, she just wanted to make sure I wasn't going to kick Shawn's ass without her".

"Good, then I was worried for nothing. As much as I want to tell them, it's for the best we don't. It's bad enough Captain Yeong found out while I was hacking the hospital computers and changing Natara's file. I don't like so many people knowing, but I don't think she'll say anything".

I could hear movement, and I stepped back into the shadows in case someone was coming. Then I heard Amy say "I better go, I took an early shift so you have plenty of time to talk to Natara alone. You're coming in a few hours, right?".

"Yeah, see you then?".

"Sure, Bye".

I heard Amy grab her bag from the coat rack and the door slam a few moment later, and after a few tense seconds I once again stepped out of the shadows. I was just about to try and creep back into my room when I heard the man's voice call out "Glad to see you're well enough to eavesdrop, Nat".

I froze, but after realizing the man had said this in a playful tone I stepped out. He was standing now, and for the first time I realized that I'm tall. Sure, I towered over Amy, but I'm just as tall as this man. After a moment my eyes locked on his face, and I had to take care not to let my jaw drop. I didn't know if the dream I had was real or something I imagined, but either way there's no mistaking those eyes. This man is the same man from my dream, the same man I had seen on the screen just the day before.

* * *

The man introduced himself a Mal Fallon, and told me with a slight laugh this is the last time he's introducing himself.

"So how much of that did you hear?" he asked.

"Enough" I answered. I found I couldn't meet his gaze. He kept staring at me, as if he could see something I couldn't. As if he could find 'Nat', which I quickly found used to be my nickname, if he looked hard enough. "Do you really think I'm the same Natara, that there's something left of her?".

"I think there's only one way to find out".

He nodded to the door, and I know what he meant. "We're going outside?" I asked. I know it showed in my voice that I wasn't sure about this, but I didn't care. "I thought Amy said it was to dangerous".

"But do you really care?".

I barely had to think about it before I answered "No".

"Good, get ready. I'll be right back".

I went back to my room and changed into the first thing I saw in my closet, a pair if jeans and a plain T-shirt. I was worried about being recognized, but the prospect of returning to the the world was to much to give up. I walked back out to Mal and saw he was waiting, a plastic bag from the dollar store that I could see from my window in his hand. As I walked in he reached in it and pulled out a plain baseball cap, tossing it to me. Unsure at where he was going with this, I put it on.

"There, now you could be anybody".

I looked at my reflection in a nearby window. Mal was right, with the hat it just looked like I had very short hair. I could barely see my own face below it, and as long as I kept my head down I figured it would stay that way. When I was done I nodded slightly to him, and followed him as he left. I looked around as we walked down the halls and stairs to outside, who knows when the next time I saw the outside again would be? But the best part was when we stepped out of the building. I had forgotten what fresh air felt like. I took several lungfuls of it as we stepped out onto the street, taking one last deep breath as I got in Mal's car. He pulled out and maneuvered through the streets that were clearly familiar to him, and I watched. I had so many questions to ask him, but I didn't say anything. I knew he would explain as soon as we got to wherever we were going. In a few short moments we pulled outside a small restaurant. I didn't even realize this was where we were stopping until Mal got out. I thought the place was closed, considering it was so early in the morning, but was once again surprised to find it was open. I followed Mal like a sheep into the building, and it was clear it was some Chinese place. I waited and looked around as Mal ordered, and a few minutes later we walked out, him holding a paper bag under his arm. Just outside there was a small table and chairs, and that's where we headed. Mal plopped the bag down on the table, and took the few small boxes out. A minute later we were eating, neither of us saying anything. After a moment Mal looked up at me and smiled.

"What?" I asked.

"Look at what you're doing".

"I'm eating–"

"–with chopsticks".

I was beyond confused. Was this some inside joke? "A lot of people can, it's not like it's some unique talent".

"But most people around here struggle with it, and the Nat I knew told me once she spend several summers traveling abroad, and that includes Asia".

I stared at him. Was he being serious? "So you think the fact that I can eat with chopsticks…means I'm the same person I was".

"It's not just that, it's everything you do. Like right now, you're scrunching your nose up because you doubt what I'm saying".

As he said this I realize he might be right, that something of Natara's might be left in me. And if that's true, I knew I had to find out everything about her. And at that point, finding out how I knew this man seemed like a good place to start.

"Amy said we were close" I said "But I don't even know how I knew you".

"It's a long story".

"And I don't have anywhere I have to be, and if you don't either, go ahead".

So Mal launched into a story about masks, murderers and betrayal, and I listened intently. His story progressed to several different cases, all of which had me on the edge of my seat. It was like he was telling a story, but we were the characters and this was the setting. What was nice about it was he was straightforward, there wasn't a thing he sugar-coated. I didn't ask a single question the whole time, but rather tried to memorize everything he said. I learned about my sister, about other killers and things that I apparently did. He seemed to focus on one person a lot of the time, someone named Shawn Mallory. But just like everyone else, that person was lost to me, and from what I could tell I knew this man fairly well. I was surprised when Mal said he shot him, but he kept going with his story up until he reached the part about Ken Greene.

"He's dead" I said before he could.

Mal nodded. "He was a good man, and he gave his life for Amy. He was killed by someone from the same group who tried to kill you".

He talked about something called 'The Kraken', which to me sounded like something from an old action movie. He described how he and someone named Blaise had gone after a bomb full of Sarin, while I was trapped with this Shawn Mallory person, who by some terrible miracle, survived.

"We got the call about what happened just after we located the second bomb. I should have known something was wrong when we didn't hear from you, and by the time I found you it was almost to late".

"Almost…" I said. Could my dream have been real? "Did you see me, just before I had my surgery?".

"You remember?" he said, looking hopeful.

"Vaguely".

"I did see you" he said. "You had your first operation to get you stable, and a second one about an hour later. I saw you just before the second one, but you were technically dead before you reached the table. They were able to revive you, and after you survived Amy changed your records to say you had died. I got you out, it was hard, but we snuck you out of the building".

It was so much to take in all at once, and I found myself avoiding his gaze once more. "Who was I?" I asked "What was I like?".

"I'm not going to tell you that" he said. "You're trying so hard to be Natara, and you don't need to. Just be yourself, and you'll be her".

"I want to remember" I said "more than anything else in the world. I want to remember who you and Amy and everyone else is, but—".

"—you will" Mal interupted. "It's in there somewhere, and you just need a little time".

But I had 'a little time', and nothing was coming back. And at that point, I didn't know if it ever would.

Suddenly there was the sound of sirens, and both of us looked up.

"Burglar alarms…" he said. His face was set as he said "stay here, and don't move. I might as well take care of this while I'm here".

I watched him run off, and I badly wanted to follow him. He ran around a corner, and I realized I was completely alone out here. I got up and walked to the other end of the sidewalk, where railing ended the concrete. As I got closer I could see the ocean on the other side.

I never reached that railing. I had just gotten to the opposite sidewalk when I felt a hand cover my mouth, and felt something prick my neck. I elbowed my attacker hard in the ribs and tried to run, but whatever that prick I felt in my neck was it had weakened me. I fell face-first into the sidewalk, and the last thing I heard was Mal calling my name.


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey, I'm back :) I just want to apologize for any typo's beforehand, I literally did not sleep more than a few hours since three days ago (although that's partially my fault), I have no voice at all and I have bruises all over my legs from playing Ga-Ga (Israeli dodgeball). I'm back now though, but you can imagine that I'm really tired and my proof-reading skills are not going to be the best. And I'm typing this at an odd time, so sorry no review this time, but I do thank anyone who did review :). **

* * *

I gasped for air as an icy slap of air suddenly hit my face. I was surprised to see I was propped up, doll-like, in a chair. I scanned the room quickly, trying to get my eyes to focus. It took me a minute to remember why I was here, as if I had just woken up after being shot again. But for some reason I was calmer than I thought I should be, I wasn't overtaken by fear. I wasn't dead yet. Whoever took me could have easily killed me at any time, but they didn't. This meant that all hope was not lost, that I still had a chance. After a moment I looked around to take in my surroundings, trying to decide my next move. The room was small, concrete making up the floor and rotting wood making up the walls. The only things in the room were the chair, the door and a small and grimy mirror. Knowing already what was going to happen, I tried the door to find it locked. I caught a glimpse at myself in the mirror, and had to do a double take when I saw myself. But I was right about what I saw the first time, someone had gently removed the hat and bandages. To be sure that I hadn't missed anything in the room, I walked around the perimeter once more. It didn't take long, the room was so small I could have probably laid down and touched both opposite walls with my feet and hands. I was just walking across the the back wall when I heard the door open, and I whipped around. There was a man standing there, and his appearance shocked me for a moment. It had nothing to do with his hair, clearly dyed very recently, or his clear slight limp as he moved. It was his face. His cheeks were hollow, his face giving off an unnatural pallor. All this made me immediately think of a skull, despite the fact that his hair was dyed dark.

There was a moment where our eyes met, and it was as if we were trying to stare each other down. I stood up taller, trying to make myself look more powerful than I really was. I kept my face mask-like, as if he was the one who was kidnapped and I was the one making the decisions here. I was shocked when the man spoke, his voice calm and smooth.

"Nice to see you're back among the living".

There was something in his voice that told me this wasn't nice at all, but that he was only trying to sound genuine.

"Nice to be back" I almost spat, but tried to keep my voice as neutral as his. It failed somewhat, there was a slight quiver if hatred to it. "Any particular reason you brought me here for this _visit_?" I added, barely able to keep my voice steady.

"Don't tell me you don't remember me" he said kindly.

I was sick of those words. Sick of not remembering. Sick of people speaking so crypticly, I was confused enough. It was partly in frustration, partly in annoyance that I snapped "Cut the crap. I don't know who the hell you are, but if you're not going to explain you can just stop now".

He only smiled and stepped out of the way to allow me to walk out, and I crept past him without taking my eyes off him. I couldn't pretend this man wasn't framiliar at all. His face was new to me, but the way his hair lie on his head and the way his glasses framed his face made me feel like I had known him. But it was different from the familiarity I had with Mal. I didn't question my trust with Mal, but I was conflicted with this man. One part of me made me feel like I could trust him, the other told me to recoil before things went wrong. The room I entered into was large and dusty, it looked like it had been abandoned for years.

"I apologize if I frightened you, I had to get you away so we could talk".

"So you kidnapped me" I said sharply. I was already asking myself if I could overpower this man. Sure, he had a pronounced limp, but he could surprise me.

"I needed to get you away".

My eyes narrowed "From who, Mal?".

He nodded. "He's been lying to you Nat, he wasn't your partner, I was".

"And you are—?" .

"Shawn Mallory".

* * *

A thousand alarm bells went off in my head as those two names were spoken. I took an instinctual step back, remembering how Mal had told me about him.

"You're lying" I spat, taking another step back. "Mal was my partner, and you tried to kill me. You and that little cult of yours". I remembered Ken, how he had been killed in both a physical way and in my memories. And both were because of him.

"No, I'm not. You were Fallon's partner, but I was first. You got shot because of his carelessness, and as much as I blame myself for not being there, it was his fault. He knows he can't handle the guilt of your death, and if you stay with him you'll never be free. You'll be hidden forever. He doesn't care about you, he just doesn't want your death on his conscience".

I stopped backing up. Could what he say be true? Could Mal, who I had trusted so much, have betrayed me? If Mal was lying, I had to admit it was a clever ruse and he and Amy were excellent actors. If this was true it meant he didn't care about me at all, and I wasn't about to give up my freedom because of a liar.

"Where is he now?" I said. I wanted him to tell his side again, so maybe I could separate the truth and the lies.

"He's currently…unavailable".

I gasped, hoping he didn't mean what I thought he meant. "You didn't—"

"He's alive, for now".

I didn't like the way he said that, so casually throwing the life of another out there. And I knew it was easy to do for him because he must have done it before. "You've killed people" I said in a small whisper.

"I didn't kill anyone who didn't deserve it, and you agreed with me fully. You and I, we've seen too many low-life's go free. We were sick of it, and went after people who eluded punishment for their crimes. You believed it once Nat, you really did".

Did I believe it? Was I really someone who killed people just because they didn't go to jail? Did I really live a double life, one side as a rogue bringer of 'justice', the other an in-line FBI agent?

"But that's wrong" I said quietly, unable to believe I had once thought that.

His eyes narrowed "What's wrong Nat? Letting a man who killed his own child walk free? Letting a lunatic who robbed a bank and _killed_ someone pin it all on a scapegoat, so he could walk in our streets today? There is no innocent and guilty, and if there is it's not for some ignorant judge to decide. It's people like us who really bring justice, people who have stared into the eyes of these low-life's and have seen that they are monsters who need to be put down. And anyone who gets in the way, man woman and child, is just as guilty". He took a large step closer so our eyes were locked. "And if that's true, people like Fallon who lie for their own gain are just as low".

He reached over to a nearby door and opened it. At first all I saw was a room similar to the one I was in, but then I looked at what was on the ground. Mal's hands were bound behind his back, and a gag was over his mouth. He had a large cut below his eye, and his jacket was ripped. His eyes widened with shock as he saw me, as if expecting me not to be here. I heard a click and turned to Shawn, who was holding out a loaded gun.

"Do it" he said "Do it, or he'll just keep hiding you until the day you die. Do it, and you'll remember what it's like to put the monsters of our society down. Do it, and you'll be free".

I wasn't aware that I had taken the gun, but the next thing I knew it was in my shaking hand. I looked at Mal, who's eyes were wide as he shook his head. It would be so easy to belive Shawn, but something wasn't right. Mal looked surprised to see me, hadn't he been telling me to run because he saw me being taken? Our eyes locked, my brown eyes searching for something in his blue ones. He shook his head slightly again, and it suddenly clicked. Mal didn't see me being attacked, the alarm must have been faked. It was an ambush for him, and he was telling me to run before I got hurt. In one fluid motion, as if it was natrual to me, I pointed the gun at Shawn.

"No" I said. "I'm not playing your game. I _know_ your lying. If Mal was anywhere near me when I was shot, he would have been with me the minute I entered the hospital. All of this was on the news, I saw it!". I saw him try and inconspicuously reach to a holster at his side.

"Stop" I demanded "If you try anything, I will end you. Just like we ended your little cult members that night I was shot".

But Shawn decided to take his chances, and continued to reach at his side.

What was weird was that I didn't remember learning how to fire a gun. I didn't even remember how to do it. But somehow, by some instinct supposedly embeded in my brain by the old Natara, I fired it. There was only one bullet, and it hit Shawn right between the eyes. I stood shocked for a moment, and my jaw dropped. His body fell back against the wall in a heap. I had killed a man. I had killed a man, who I wasn't even entirely certain was lying and trying to hurt me. It was with numb fingers that I dropped the gun as if it repulsed me and freed Mal, and I said nothing the entire time. I was in shock, unbelieving of what I had done. I could have shot his leg, or even his arm. But I shot his head, a place where I was almost certain he would die if I did it. I knew my actions would lead to his death, but I did it anyways. I wasn't aware that Mal was speaking to me, or that he had grabbed my upper arm to lead me a few feet away so I was spared from the sight. I didn't care when Mal reassured me that the danger was over now, that everyone could know I was alive and I could come out of hiding. That the cult would probably disband now that it's leader was dead. I didn't because the danger would never be over. Not until I stopped being a dead body left behind. Not until I was Natara Williams again.


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey, I didn't get a lot of views for the last chapter so I don't know if people saw I updated yesterday. So if you didn't read the last chapter, there is another one and you might not have read it so you might be confused if you don't go back read it.**

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"Hey".

Mal sat next to me where I was sitting on the curb. Police cars were parked nearby, their blue and red lights still going. Mal had called them, I didn't want to know on what phone, but I had my suspicions. I was in shock, how could I have just killed him? It made me wonder how many other people I had killed before, and it frightened me slightly. Had it been easy for me before, or was it just as hard?

"I called your family" he said "They're coming down to see you. They want to see your alive for themselves".

I didn't say anything. I didn't have anything to say.

"I'm sorry" Mal said "I shouldn't have left you alone, or taken you outside at all. It was my fault".

I shot him a sharp glance. "My memory may be shot, but I was given the impression that Natara could take care if herself. I can take care of myself too, you just saw it".

"I know".

"I'm not some princess waiting to be rescued, I don't need a hero. I don't need you to protect me".

"I know".

My eyes narrowed again, and I wondered if he was really listening. I wanted to say something more on the subject, but quickly lost my nerve. I had already seen countless shocked faces of people arriving as they saw I was alive. Saw how their eyes were drawn to my scar. They all wanted a look at the woman who was supposed to be dead, even if she was a ghost. "You realize" I said quietly "that what we do—doing things like this—means we're only setting ourselves to be victimized. That we're opening ourselves up as easy targets".

"At least we sighed up for it".

I remember the blonde woman from the TV screen's face. How her jaw had dropped, how she had exclaimed I was alive as if it wasn't obvious. What if I had died? What if it was that other man, Ken, who had somehow miraculously survived? Would Amy be happy? Would it be better that way? I dug my nails into my legs, trying to force myself to think of something else.

"Are you okay?".

I didn't even think before I said what I had been saying the last few days "I just want to go home".

Honestly, I didn't know where home was. But it was a familiar word, somewhere I knew used to be mine. Something I had to find again.

"Then I'll take you home".

* * *

My 'home' was a long-term hotel room apparently. It seemed I really didn't have a home. Traveling a lot with the FBI, I didn't seem to have a permanent place in this world. Mal had hung onto my keys while I was gone, and it was he who unlocked it when we got to the door. As I entered I tried to familiarize myself with the room again. The room was dusty, but it looked like it had been recently inhabited. There was a coat flung across the couch, a used coffee cup in the trash. I had once put those things there, and this was the first tangible trace of who I was. On the counter there was a photo, clearly placed when I felt I had truly settled here. It was was a younger girl and I. I looked normal, long bister-colored hair flowing behind me. The other girl was sixteen maybe, her hair a similar color but with a blue streak in it. The girl was leaning over the railing of a dock, waving at whoever was taking the picture. I was standing slightly apart from her, a light smile on my lips as I also looked at the camera. I was happy. I wondered if I would ever remember the moment the picture was taken, ever feel happiness again.

"That's my sister, isn't it?" I asked softly "That's Neha".

"Yes, you and Neha went to the beach about two years ago. You told me all about it".

I made a mental note to bring this trip up when I saw my sister next. From this photo I could tell she was younger than me, and I had an instinct to protect her. I couldn't hurt her by telling her I didn't remember her at all. I knew there was a difference between remembering what I was told about my life, and remembering my life, but I might as well pretend like I was normal while I was with her.

I wanted to explore this room, find more clues about myself so I could have a memory of the people who raised me to hold onto. I wandered around for a while, picking up photos and things. Occasionally Mal would comment something like "You took that photo with Neha just before she left after we rescued her" or "That belonged to your mother, I think". This went on for a while, because I couldn't stop. I wanted to know more about this person who I was. It was like Natara was a celebrity, the frivolous things were common knowledge, the personal things never spoken out loud. But I needed to figure out everything. I was tired of looking in the mirror and not recognizing who was looking back at me. Tired of guessing who I was. Now that I was free, I was determined to find Natara Williams.

"Natara?".

I realized I was holding a badge, or more correctly my badge, between my fingers. Surely I had taken it with the day I was nearly killed, but someone had returned it. There was a thin black cloth around it, covering up the letters spelling FBI. It was a mourning badge.

"Is this—?".

"For you, and Ken. Someone insisted I put your badge here until your funeral, and I guess I never came around to removing it. It didn't matter anyways, it couldn't be buried with you since your family thought they had you cremated. They thought they scattered your ashes off the pier that other picture was taken at, but really it was just some ashes from a fireplace that Amy found".

I felt the black fabric between my fingers, pushing it off the badge so the letters were visible again. Everyone had already said goodbye to me. Already taken in my death, payed their respects. And where was I? Alive and safe in some random hotel room. My whole life was a lie, and I had made everyone mourn me while I was alive. I didn't deserve it, while they were fighting with bands on their badges, I was warm and sleeping. I pushed the rest of the band off, and it fell onto the floor. No one had to morn me anymore, because I was stuck here whether it was fair or not. I set the badge back down, but didn't move other than that. It was so much to take in. In a physical way I was free now, but I was still trapped in a mental way. I sucked in a deep breath and willed myself not to let my emotions show. Not to show how broken I really was. But the next thing I knew a silent tear was rolling down my cheek against my will. I refused to let anything else show. I would not gasp for breath, or allow my whole body to tremble. I would allow the emotion-devoid tears flow. I might not be Natara anymore, but I was still human. I was still allowed to feel despite my own absence.

"Nat…".

The next thing I knew I was letting myself press my tear-streaked face to Mal's chest, while he stoked a non-existent hair from my face. But I didn't move other that this. We just stood together for a moment, neither holding on, but not letting go either. It wasn't long until I was done. I had given the loss of myself a fair amount of tears, no more, no less. It was I who pulled away first, jerking away as if electrocuted.

"Are you okay?".

I lied again by nodding. What a stupid question this was. Of course I wasn't okay, I was a total wreck! Natara had crashed, and I was the wreckage that was left behind. I didn't even know myself. Was I Natara, or was I Nat? Or maybe I was something else, something artificial and painstakingly put back together. Mine was a bittersweet existence. I was, just like Shawn Mallory, a great and terrible miracle.

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**Yep, little bit of Maltara there :) Please review?**


	7. Chapter 7

**Review Replies: **

**mozzi-girl: Thanks! **

**diamondsintherough: Thanks! Epic intentionally incorrect way of spelling cute :)**

**Oryt: Thank you so so so so much! Seriously, that means so much to me I used multiple 'so's. Thank you so much :) And also, I do that too when I'm reading when I shouldn't be…like in the middle of class and I'm just like *Bad poker face* "I did nothing!". **

**So this chapter has very little Maltara, but I swear my next update should have a lot. In fact, I promise it will. **

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It was early, too early, when I woke up in fear. Just like the last time, I couldn't remember what the dream that had woken me was. I assumed I must have been one of those people who didn't let my fear show, because once again I was frozen. For a moment I forgot where I was, and I didn't know what strange room I was in. Then I remembered, Mal had brought me home. Mal had left, and would come to pick me up to see my family when they arrived. As this thought hit, so did a sudden wave of anxiety. I was going to meet the people who raised me. The people who knew more about me than I knew myself, which considering how much I knew wasn't much of a competition. I knew it would be best to curl back up and go to sleep, but I couldn't. My mind wouldn't rest, and I started thinking of every little thing that could go wrong. What if I wasn't the same, and these people barely knew me anymore? What if I remembered nothing when I look at them? What really worried me was if they would be angry for not contacting them. They thought I was dead, and I didn't even call. If anyone had a right to know about my continued existence, it would be them. But they didn't know, they thought I was dead. And I regreted any pain I caused them. Knowing trying to go back to sleep was useless, I dressed and got ready for the day. I began to notice things I hadn't before. There was a hairbrush on the dresser, one that wouldn't be of use for a long time. There were several printed-out articles on the table, papers I guessed I had once intended to read. I was ready far too early, and as I walked out to my living room I saw it again, my badge. The black band that I had taken off of it lay on the floor. I crossed the room and put it back on the badge. I had forgotten how Ken had died. That I wasn't the only one missing. It wasn't fair, and I knew it. In my mind, even thought I didn't remember him, Ken had the easier way out. He was free, I was stuck here picking up the pieces and trying to make the world make sense again. Even this didn't make sense. How did I know what a mourning badge was, but I couldn't remember if I ever had a best friend?

"Natara?".

I whipped around, and after a moment I head Mal's knuckles rap on the door. It was time, I was going to meet the people who raised me. Some of the ever expanding amount of people I should remember.

* * *

Mal was driving me to the airport, where we were going to pick my parents and sister up and take them to where they were staying. I didn't say anything the entire time, I was preparing myself to meet these people. What would they say? What would I say? I didn't have very long to think about it, which was both a blessing and a curse. But I didn't get out of the car right away as Mal parked, I just sat there.

"Do they know?" I asked quietly before Mal could get out.

I didn't have to clarify, he knew what I meant. "They know" he said "They know everything about what's happened to you".

_Great_ I thought _Everyone knows everything about Natara, except for Natara_. Part of me was grateful though. I didn't want to re-live what had happened to me the past few days, didn't want to explain how I had killed someone. I had a feeling that was what I had dreamt about, what had caused me to freeze in fear. How I had felt the gun kick back slightly as a red dot appeared on Shawn's forehead…

"Come on" Mal said. I hadn't realized I'd lapsed into this memeory, one of my few memories. I quickly recovered from my daze and got out, and before I had even stood upright someone had grabbed me into a tight hug. It took me a moment to take in the blue streak of hair in my face, but I realized who this was as soon as I made a connection to the girl in the picture.

"I can't believe you're back!".

I smiled slightly at the framiliar voice, and like any normal person would, I hugged my little sister back.

* * *

We drove my parents and sister to the hotel they were staying at, which was nearby. My mother, who I was able to assume was this by our semi-similar features, didn't let go of me. Her arm was hooked around mine as if she were afraid I would evaporate if she let go. My sister was clearly overjoyed, but kept glancing at me the whole way there as if expecting me to disappear. My father said almost nothing, only giving me a half-hug as we met. He was in the passenger side, Neha my mother and I taking up the back seat as Mal drove. In truth, I was terrified. What if I disappointed these people by forgetting everything? But all this evaporated as we reached our destination. It seemed my mother and sister's sole purpose was to help me remember things. My mother offered pictures. My sister would tell stories, often funny and usually ending in "…and we got in so much trouble!".

But what was odd was the man I took for as my father. He seemed to keep his distance, as if wanting to say something but unsure how to approach me. Things seemed awkward between us, and unlike my mother and sister he seemed to always be looking at my scar. He looked away as soon as he noticed I saw him do this, but I still knew he was doing it. It wasn't long before it was getting late. I hadn't gained any memory from before, but for the first time I felt like I had found a place where I belonged. Of course I had never set foot in this hotel room before, but the people here were so familiar it was like I had a piece of myself back. Because if I could find one piece of Natara, her beginning, I could follow it and find the rest as well. It was as we said out goodbye's when something went wrong. As I hugged my sister goodbye, she whispered "Dad loves you, don't go off of how he acts or anything else you might remember. He was heartbroken at your death".

"What do you mean?" I asked.

She pulled away and gave me a look, one I knew from the countless encounters since I woke up meant 'Don't you remember?'. She looked around to make sure no one was listening. Our parents were in the other room, and I knew Mal was pulling his car up from where it was parked a few blocks away. "You and dad…you didn't get along very well. It was about your job, he didn't like it. And when we found out you were alive, I knew what he wanted to say. He wanted to say 'I told you so'. He always said it was to dangerous".

I pulled away. Why didn't Mal tell me this? "And that was why he seemed so…reserved?".

"Don't take it the wrong way, he only said it was dangerous because he wanted to protect you. He accepted it a little more when Mal was here for Christmas and talked to him, but when you were shot—".

"—Wait, Mal knew about this?".

Neha nodded, and at that I turned on heel and left without another word. I heard Neha call after me, but I was already hitting the down button on the elevator with my fist. What other ugly aspect of my life was Mal hiding? What else was he keeping from me? I didn't say anything as I got in his car as he pulled up, I still needed a ride home, but I knew I had to say something.

It was only when we pulled outside my hotel when I had built up enough nerve, and eventually I asked "Why didn't you tell me?". He didn't have time to ask what he didn't tell me, because I quickly added "About my dad. Why didn't you tell me we were always fighting?".

"I wanted you to—".

I cut him off, even though he was answering a question I just asked. "What else are you keeping from me?".

"Nothing, I didn't tell you because I was hoping through this you could make peace. I wanted you to make up with him before it was too late".

'_Before it was to late_'. There words were so vague, but at the same time gave so much away. It was the first time I wondered about someone else's life, since I was so busy trying to figure out my own. What had happened to this mans family? Why would he add something like this at the end if he didn't have his own problems?

"I trusted you" I said quietly "I trusted you to tell me who I was, and you left something out just so I would do something the old Natara wouldn't. You manipulated me".

"Nat, you can trust me. I just wanted to fix something, make one thing better" he said "Make sure you didn't fight the first time you saw him. There's so little I could do for you, and making meeting your family again a little easier was one of the few things I could do".

But I was already getting out. I was talking to him through the open car door when I said "I don't think I know what it means to trust someone, Mal. Not anymore". And with that I left him, walking into my hotel building and up the stairs to my 'home'. I was just fumbling with my keys when something caught my eye. In the little basket beside my door that looked like it usually held the newspaper, was a small brown book. I picked it up gently, as if were something fragile and rare. It was bound in leather, and written on a small sticky note stuck to the cover was my name.


	8. Chapter 8

The book was small, but thick. There was a latch across the top as if it was meant to be a diary, but didn't have a lock. I unhitched it and ran my fingers across the forty or so pages, finding the reason for the thickness was because every page was made of thick parchment paper. As if I was stealing it, I looked around to make sure no one else was in the hallway. When I saw no one, I darted inside and closed the door. I leaned on the doorway, once again staring at the book. Who had sent it? It was clearly meant for me, it had my name on it. For some reason I felt as if I were holding something very fragile and precious, as if I had a birds tiny egg in my hands. Beyond curious, I cracked it open to the first page. It was all pictures, photos really. The first few on the page were of a tiny infant, most of which the child was asleep. They progressed to be of a little girl, her wispy brown hair barley covering her head. I turned the page, and watched the child grow into a toddler. Then a pre-schooler. I became mesmerized by this girl, and I wanted to know where her story went. She became a kindergartner, and I watched her show off various projects that she clearly made in school. She became a fifth-grader, proudly displaying a hand-drawn picture. She became a pre-teen, giving the camera a rather awkward smile as teeth were obscured by braces. I knew who this girl was the entire time, but didn't allow myself to really think about it. I needed to know this girls story, I needed to know who she was. She became a teen, and a lot of the pictures after this point were of her on a horse. Another little girl, one that also had dark hair, made several appearances. The pictures began to lessen as the pages went on, leaving blank spaces of the page. The girl had grown up, and was probably to busy for pictures. There were a few that had caught my eye, and I went back to those before I went to the end. In truth, I didn't want this book to end. There were so few pages left, and I was afraid of how it ended. I went back to one of the two girls on a ferris wheel, the younger one clinging to the older one for protection. I went back to one where the girl was eighteen, wearing a prom dress with her hair flowing about her as if made from little more than vapor and light. I went a few pages from the end, the girl was graduating from college. The younger girl and someone resembling my mother were beaming into the camera. A man who looked like my father had a very forced smile. I went back to the beginning, trying to put together that this woman had started out as this tiny child. The page I turned to was one of the girl, seven at the most, playing some sort of game. She was in a circle, holding hands with other children. Both followed, and led. After a moment I flipped to the back, whether I liked it or not, I had to finish this girls story. I had watched her grow up, and I needed to know what happened to her. I was surprised to see handwriting instead of pictures, all different from each other. The first one was in one block of text, but from the signature at the bottom I could tell it had been composed by my mother, father and Neha.

_Dear Natara,_

_Hopefully you'll remember something something by the time you get this. Mal insisted we put this together in case you don't, so if you didn't maybe this will help you. We want you to know that no matter what happens, everything will be okay. If you get every memory back, that's great. If you get some back, then we'll be glad for whatever it is. If you get nothing back, we still love you anyways. We love you because you are still Natara, in every way that you could possibly be. You're still a our daughter and a sister, and since we found out you were alive all we wanted to do was help you. This is the very least we can do, and we hope this is a great help to you._

_—Mom, Dad and Neha._

I could feel a faint smile creep on my lips as I read this. These people, the people who had raised me, thought I could still come back. The next one was something Amy wrote, which was fairly similar to the last one. It was short, simply saying that believed I would come back and that if I needed anything I could just talk to her. But it was the last one that was the most helpful. The last one, written in small and slight untidy scrawl, that had me hanging on each word.

_Nat,_

_Hopefully you won't need to read this, because you'll already remember everything, but if you are I don't care if you do. You keep thinking you need to find yourself, but you're not lost. You don't need to be fixed, because Natara is still here. This person you think is someone else, it's really you. So if you remember everything, that's great. If you don't, then you'll still be okay. I promise I'll do everything I can to make you remember, but in truth I think you'll get it all back on your own. I think it's all somewhere in you, and if you just wait a while it'll all come back. In the meantime, just forget about who you're supposed to be. Just do what you think is right, and you'll act more like Natara than you ever could by trying. Just go with your gut, and you'll be okay._

_—Mal_

That last sentence is what changed everything. _'Just go with your gut'_. How many times had I heard him say that already? What came back was patchy and didn't make much sense, but it was something. I remembered sitting on the top of a ferris wheel, wind whipping my hair around as the cold stung my ears. I remembered getting my picture taken while I was showing Neha how to ride a horse. I remembered my graduation from college. I remembered stepping past a crowd to see a blue-eyed man, who introduced himself as Detective Mal Fallon…

"Mal…" I whispered to no one in particular. I had to say it out loud, so if I lost sight of this memory the air would remember my words. Because for some reason, I felt like they weren't true until I said it out loud. "…I do remember you".


	9. Chapter 9

I ran. I dropped the book and ran. Somehow my mind knew where to go, and I navigated the sidewalks without even thinking about it. With those memories came more, as if a barrier had finally been broken. They played in my mind, as if I were watching a home movie. I was nine, I felt embarrassment flood my cheeks as I went to kick a kickball but missed. I was eighteen, feeling a surge of pride as I took my diploma. I was twenty-two, I cried when I found out my friend, Christine, had been mugged and murdered in the streets. I was twenty-three, anger flooded face as I fought with my father about my career choice. The last was a recent one. I felt utter desperation as I looked over files, trying desperately to figure out where my sister was. Mal said something I couldn't quite remember, and I hugged him as he tried to comfort me…

The next thing I knew I was knocking on the door sharply, not caring how late it was. Not caring that people stared at me, looking strangely at my odd appearance. It took a moment until Mal opened the door, and I didn't even give him a chance to see who I was before I threw my arms around him. I needed to be sure this person was real, that he was still here. That the same person that I had hugged, however long ago that was, was the same person who stood here today.

"I'm sorry" I whispered. I truly felt bad for how I had gotten angry at him earlier. He was only trying to help, and there wasn't much he could do. He still seemed shocked at my sudden appearance, but after a moment I felt him hug me back.

"You have nothing to apologize for".

* * *

"Have you ever hear of the red thread?" Amy asked.

I had been a few weeks since I had gotten my memory back. A few things were still hazy, mainly details and things that happened within a few days of when I got shot, but I had most of them back. I was sitting down in the crime lab with Amy. I was allowed to come back to work, but I was put on desk duty as my short-term memory was still foggy.

I shook my head "Never". As I did this I could feel the short growth of hair behind me move. My hair was growing out again, it was almost as long as Amy's. I liked it. Not because of how it looked, but because it was the first sign that things were returning to normal.

"When I was little, my mother used to tell me that people who were meant to be together were connected to a red thread. That it may be tangled, but it will never break".

I smiled slightly, I could see where she was getting at. Mal and I, although it was unspoken, were pretty much dating. I had been a little wary of the idea, but I realized Mal wouldn't have done all those things for me if he didn't love me. And when I realized that…it just sort of happened. I realized that Mal had fallen in love with someone named Natara Williams, and that she was still here. It made me think of how different things could have turned out, how the slightest change could have meant this would have never happened. What if I hadn't shot Shawn in Miami? What if he hadn't lived when Mal shot him and he fell off that roof? From the open door I could hear a laugh, and it sounded like it came from Mal. He must have just come back. It was a recent change, but laughter had returned to the station. Mal said it had disappeared when Ken and I died, but when people realized I was alive I almost became a symbol of hope. That even if you lose everything, like I did, life goes on.

I could remember Ken now, even remember how he had died, although that was still fuzzy. Ignoring the further distraction of Mal's familiar voice, I looked back to Amy. It surprised me to see how she held Ken's badge, which had been given to Ken's mother, then given to Amy, in her hand. I think Ken's mother let her have it to her so she had something to hold onto, but this was the first I saw it other than on her desk.

"Did it hurt?" she asked, noticing how I had looked back at her. "Did it hurt when you died?".

In truth, the memory I had of seeing Mal just before my operation was the only one I had of that day. But I supposed that was when my heart had stopped beating for those few precious moments, when I had touched death. I could remember the agony of the ringing of my ears, the pain in my head and the fear that ran through me mind. But when I thought of that moment, that second just before I let go, there was only one word that came to mind. Peace. "No" I answered after a moment "it's easier than falling asleep, and you don't even know it's happening. It's only what happens before you die that is painful".

I looked at how she was held the badge. It was cupped in her hand, as if she were holding an injured baby bird. I realized why she had asked me if I believed in the red thread. Maybe she didn't really believe in it, but it was all she had. Because it meant that if it was true, maybe and Mal and I were connected. And that meant maybe she and Ken were connected. I put my hand under hers and pressed her fingers to the cold metal.

"You'll see him again" I whispered.

"You think so?".

I ran a quick hand through my hair, where I could feel the now-smooth scar as my hand brushed my temple. "I think everyone gets a second chance".

* * *

**Yes, this is the end. Thanks to everyone who reviewed! Replies:**

**Oryt: Thanks! :) I'm really touched. :) put three smily faces just because your review made my day? Heck yes! :D**

**mozzi-girl: Thanks a lot :) **

**So, I want to know which of these two fanfic's you want first. _Haunted_ (a kind of spooky one. It'll be about a supposedly 'haunted' building that may turn out to be haunted after all…) or _Evil Angel_ (A sad, yet romantic fanfic like this one. It'll be about eternal love, even after death). I will do both eventually, and promise I will eventually do _Masquerade_ (which I've had several requests about). I'm still working out the plot holes with it, but will try and start it soon. So if you could tell me whether you want to see _Haunted_ or _Evil Angel_ that would be great!**

**Thanks for reading!**

**—A**


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